


Gone beyond repair

by maskofmydisguise



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Eating Disorders, I honestly don't know who's going to be in this, I shouldn't write summaries sorry, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, sorry - Freeform, this might be crap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maskofmydisguise/pseuds/maskofmydisguise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was Patrick getting fat again?<br/>Maybe he was.<br/>Maybe it would be best if he skipped a couple meals..<br/>Lost some more weight...<br/>That's what's best for the band... Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters are short but there will be a lot of them

_"Is it just me, or has Patrick put on more weight?"_

_"He's getting so chubby"_

_"Fat"_

 

 _Have I really gained weight?_ Patrick had been asking himself this for months now, and he still hadn't thought of an answer. Maybe he had put on weight. His arms always seemed a little too big for his sleeves, and his pants were just a little too tight around his thighs. But surely he hadn't. Right? Patrick looked up from his half eaten plate and glanced at his friends, who were seated around him. His eyes landed on Pete. He smiled back at Patrick and said,

"Are you not gonna eat, 'Trick?" He shook his head in response and pushed the food away. Even with it on the other side of the table, he could still smell it. It taunted him, made his mouth water.

"Is something wrong?" Andy had stopped eating as well, and was looking at Patrick with an expression similar to Pete's. Again, Patrick shook his head. "I'm fine." He stood abruptly and squeezed out of the booth they were seated in. Ignoring Pete's desperate calls for him to sit back down, he left the diner.

 

The bus was cold and quiet without anyone there with him. Not that he didn't somewhat enjoy it, because he did, and he was grateful for some peace and quiet. But it did give him time to think. Too much time. He laid in his bunk, the one he sometimes shared with Pete. It was uncomfortable to lay in, which was strange because it never seemed to feel this way before. Realization hit Patrick harder than a brick. He was too big. Out of frustration, he growled and punched the roof of the bunk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I messed up when I published the first chapter. It said 1/1 instead of 1/?  
> Sorry about that. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes.

The white porcelain of the toilet felt cold against Patrick's warm shaking hands. He'd been sitting there for at least half an hour, contemplating whether or not he should shove his fingers down his throat. He'd done this before, sure, but that didn't make it any easier this time around. Heaving a sigh, he closed his eyes and stuck three fingers in his mouth.

Patrick couldn't help but flinch every time he gagged. By now, after throwing up practically a dozen times, the pain was almost unbearable. Acid burned in the back of his throat and his fingers throbbed from clutching the toilet like it was an anchor. After cleaning himself up, Patrick stood and exited the tiny bathroom. The other guys still weren't back yet, go figure. He expected to be alone for another hour or so. They were always leaving him like this. Honestly, he was used to it by now. Every time he stormed out of whatever place that happened to be at the time, the others would avoid him for a few hours, most likely to ensure that he cooled down by the time they returned.

 

Just as expected, the others came back roughly an hour later. They stumbled onto the bus, laughing with large grins. Patrick emerged from the back room, wearing his most convincing smile. Joe gave a wave and tossed a bag at him. Patrick wasn't quick enough to catch the bag. It hit him directly in the stomach and landed on the floor with a thud. Patrick bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain.

"What is this?" He asked, carefully leaning down to pick it up.

"Candy," Pete mumbled, mouth full of something. He swallowed and grinned. "We walked past a candy store on the way back, and just couldn't help ourselves." Patrick nodded in response and forced himself to take the contents out of the bag. Just the sight of so much sugar made Patrick want to die.

_I can't eat this. It'll make me ~~fat~~ fatter._

_Too much sugar._

Pete frowned when he saw a look of disgust cross Patrick's face.

"Did we buy something you don't like?"

"N-no. It's fine. Thank you," He smiled again, and retreated back into the sleeping area. Glancing behind him to make sure that no one was watching, Patrick shoved the candy between his bed and the wall where he couldn't see it.


	3. Chapter 3

It seemed like all Patrick did nowadays was think. He never really went out to socialize, since they were on tour and he had to focus on being prepared for the next concert. The others, mainly Pete, occasionally took a day to party or "sightsee" in whatever city the happened to stay in. This meant that Patrick was left behind (after declining Pete's requests to join him) with an empty bus and a mind full of hateful thoughts. Thankfully, tonight wasn't one of those nights. But, even still, Patrick felt utterly alone. Joe was in the bunk next to him, snoring quietly. Andy was across the aisle, tapping lightly on the bunk walls with his drumsticks(geez, it seemed like the guy slept with his freaking sticks. Seriously.) Pete was below Andy. No noise emitted from Petes bunk, which was strange. Patrick slid his phone out of his pocket and texted him.

**To: Petey**

**You awake? You're awfully quiet.**

 

**From: Petey**

**Yea :)))**

 

**From: Petey**

**why are u txting me? Ur literally 3 feet away lol**

 

**To: Petey**

**Sorry.**

 

**From: Petey**

**Lol it's cool bro. U should come in here w/ me ;))))**

 

A sinking feeling filled Patrick's gut. _I won't fit_. Shaking his head, Patrick cursed under hit breath and hopped down from his bunk. He leaned down next to Pete's and whispered, "Pete. Let me in." The curtain opened within second to reveal a smiley Pete.

"C'mere." The bleach blond reached out his arms to pull the other into an awkward hug/cuddle. Patrick obliged a little too quickly and was mad at himself for doing so.

"You look sad, 'Trick."

"I'm fine," he mumbled, burying his face in the other man's shoulder. They were laying uncomfortably next to each other, but he did mind. At least he and Pete were near each other. Pete didn't look convinced. "I don't believe that." He pulled Patrick on top of him. And wrapped his arms gently around his waist. Patrick was sure that he was squishing Pete, but he didn't seem to mind it. Patrick didn't either. He was warm, and oddly comfortable on Petes chest. His breath was hot against Patrick's cool neck, and the feeling soothed him.

"What's got you down, Pattycakes?"

_I'm not good enough. Too fat. Too ugly. Horrible voice._ "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

_No._ "Yes." Patrick mentally slapped himself for answering with lies. If he wanted to get better, he'd have to tell someone. But what if I don't want to get better? He thought, fighting tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks. Pete must've noticed that he _was_ upset, because Patrick felt hand snake their way to his head. Warm hands gently stroked his head in a soothing matter.

"I don't know what has happened, but you've seemed awfully down lately. I'm sorry 'Trick. I love you, you know."

_No, you don't._

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I eventually make Pete and Patrick a couple or..?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is late  
> Sorry for any spelling mistakes

The anorexic and bulimic habits continued for another month before anyone realized what was happening. By then, Patrick had lost more than 20 pounds, a new record for him.

Andy was the first to understand what was happening. He and the lead singer were close, closer than the fans may have expected. He, like Pete, was able to tell when something was up. Pete had just been too blind to see it this time. In fact, they were all too blind. They never seemed to notice that Patrick headed straight to the bathroom after eating and only ate when he had to. He drank a lot of water and carried only mints in his pockets. Only when Patrick became unable to sing, did anyone bother to notice.

Pete questioned what was wrong after a concert in some city who's name Patrick couldn't seem to remember. His head felt heavy. _Nobody seems to care unless it affects the band_ , he thought dismally, sighing internally.

"I dunno man. I think I'm just tired." He rubbed his temples with shaky fingers.

"I highly doubt that's the problem. All you ever seem to do is sleep." He gently grabbed Patrick's arm and pulled him in the direction of the back room. Patrick made a sound of annoyance and shrugged Petes arm off.

"'M fine. Just a little sick is all." Pete didn't believe him, but he didn't pester either.

Mad Patrick was not a good Patrick.

Patrick didn't talk for the rest of the night. Not even when Pete whined and pressed sloppy kisses onto his cheek. His throat hurt to much to speak or laugh. He tried to hide away in the safety of the bathroom, but Andy prevented him from doing so.

Andy wrapped a callused hand around one of Patrick's wrists. He slowly pulled the shorter man back, whispering softly to him.

"Patrick... I know what's going on. It's not healthy for you, it's not healthy for any of us. You need to stop."

_There he goes again_ , Patrick thought. _Making it all about the band._

"I know," he said suddenly, anger building in his choked out words. "I know it isn't healthy. Just, leave me alone."

He yanked his hand out of the strong grasp of the drummer and hurried off the bus. Joe yelled something from the passenger seat. His words were jumbled and faded by the time they reached the lead singer's ears.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I didn't even remember that this existed until recently. I've been working on other stories that I have yet to post. I'll never finish anything on this damn website.  
> Regardless, I apologize for the wait. Enjoy, and don't hesitate to give feedback. I don't bite... Much.

Patrick never did come back to the tour bus. The next morning a phone call was answered at Fall Out Boys record label and the message simply stated that Patrick wanted nothing to do with the band for the next few months. The tour was cancelled soon after, leaving a trail of disappointment in its wake. Pete's calls and texts eventually stopped sending Patrick's phone into a frenzy, and suddenly he was alone again. There was nothing he could do anymore. No one bothered to check in on him. It was almost like he had completely disappeared, turning into the ghost of the great man he once was. 

Roughly a month after leaving the band, Patrick found himself seated in the back of a bar, a half empty glass of some alcoholic drink in his hand. He had needed a chance to get out of his cramped Chicago apartment, and this was the best he could do. None of the drunks seemed to notice him sulking in a corner, but it wasn't like he cared. He did care, though, when Brendon Urie slipped into the booth seat across from his.  
"Dude!" He said, his warm breath smelling of smoke. "What happened to you? You disappeared! Pete's been going crazy about it. He's been locked in his house for days." Brendon pulled out a ripped packet of cigarettes.  
"I'd rather not talk about... This." Patrick waved his hand dismissively, staring anywhere other than at the man seated across from him. "Why are you even here, anyways?" He was certain that Brendon hadn't shown up just for him. No one bothered to do that anymore. Not that Patrick cared, honestly.   
"Dallon dragged me here. Said he wanted to meet up with a few old friends. I just didn't expect to see you. We all figured that you'd stay off the radar and just hole yourself up in your apartment. They're going to be relieved that you didn't." He let out a low chuckle, bringing the now lit cigarette to his parted lips. Patrick laughed back, though it was hollow and empty.  
"We?" One of his eyebrows raised slightly. Brendon smiled awkwardly and blew smoke into Patrick's face.  
"Yeah. 'We' meaning every other member of your band as well as half the damn country. Does it come as a surprise that people actually care?" The taller man leaned across the dark table, his eyes scanning the other's face. Patrick remained silent, absentmindedly stirring the straw in his drink.   
"Huh. You know, Pete told me that you've been in a hold of self pity lately. I just didn't think it was true. Well, you enjoy that." A frown spread across Patrick's face as Brendon rose from his spot. In moments, he was gone, not bothering to notice the sudden look of angry sadness that spread across Patrick's sunken face.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated :)


End file.
